This is a post about piles.
You know the ones.
The piles of things you "might use someday."
The piles of things "too cool to throw away."
The piles of things "too good to use."
and then there's the "inbox pile" - the stuff received/found so recently it's still in a little box on my desktop.
When the inbox overflows, I sort it and file it into the pre-existing piles, and add new things to the inbox.
I was using my scraps more regularly during June and July because of the index-card-a-day challenge, but things have really been piling up since then.
Proof that I can actually use my stash.
It's a tiny dent, but it's progress.
We had Chinese takeout one night on vacation, and unwrapped some of the oddest/funniest fortunes I've ever found. They were too good not to save, but I will not save them forever.
|"Though I am not naturally honest, I am so sometimes by chance."|
|"Most people, once they graduate from the school of Hard Knocks, automatically enroll."|
The postcards above and below feature old photographs sent to me by Indigo. She found them in an abandoned house. I'm rather haunted by these photos. Who are these people? Did they live in that house? Why was the house abandoned? How many years have these pictures been tucked away, unnoticed? Why didn't anybody want them? What other treasures lie inside? (the land owners gave Indigo permission to explore/take things before the house is demolished. How cool is that?)
anyway - I had the momentary feeling that these pictures were just too precious to use and I should keep them. But for what? I already have albums upon albums of old photos of people who were actually related to me that I can't bring myself to use, so why hold onto the photos of presumably dead strangers? It was liberating to just glue the original pictures onto the postcards.
|Stamped image of a canning jar sent to me by.....??? (damn, I can't remember - but thanks!)|
Sent to my pie-loving friend Pamela:
|words to live by|
Sent to the delightfully twisted Lynn, who would not report me to child protective services for making jokes about babies and booze:
|sign me up!|
It's Friday afternoon, and I have that feeling of limitless potential that comes at the start of every weekend. The list of art-related things I plan to accomplish is ridiculous and unachievable, but a girl can dream can't she? Whatever I end up doing, I promise to take a few things out of the piles.